


The Story of Us

by bipedalpanda (jbird181), jbird181



Series: 13 Days of Falling in Love [9]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff, Math, high school sweethearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/bipedalpanda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/jbird181
Summary: Cassandra is not happy about being assigned Ezekiel Jones of all people as her partner for a useless math project. They end up building a great stellated dodecahedronanda relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Day 9: High School Sweethearts
> 
> I'll probably either rewrite this in the future or add some deleted scenes. (Prom. I mean prom.)

It starts with a project, a time-consuming, useless project that has much more to do with art than math: make a 3-D shape. And it's not just _any_ shape, no no no, no run-of-the-mill cubes allowed here. I was assigned a great stellated dodecahedron (Yes, that's actually a real thing. Look it up.) and a dubious partner, a sophomore with an Australian accent and a reputation of mischief: Ezekiel Jones.

 

There was simply no way I was cutting out 180 identical triangles by myself. Not happening, no matter what Ezekiel’s carefree attitude suggested. He was an endless source of frustration for me, never bothering to do his homework, but somehow still getting 100’s on the tests. We were only partners because we were the only ones that sat at our group of desks, alone together.

 

I didn't have very many friends, which I was okay with. Popularity is overrated, and I _did_ have friends, well I had and still have Jake Stone. He just wasn't in my pre-calc class. 

 

Now that I think about it, Ezekiel didn't seem to have any friends at all.

 

“You have the last five minutes to make plans for your project with your partner,” said Mr. Trammel. “Use them wisely.”

 

The room exploded into sound and movement: the scrape of chairs, the murmurs of pairs actually discussing the project, the clicks of phone keyboards. Ezekiel plunked his chair down from where he had been tipping it off its front legs to lean back and turned to face me, phone out, which was nothing new.

 

 _This’ll be okay, it’s just one project, right?_ I just had to take charge, to keep Ezekiel in line long enough to turn a cereal box into a great stellated dodecahedron. I could do that.

 

But Ezekiel spoke before I could say anything. “So, where do you want to meet? Your house or mine? Or I guess we could go somewhere else.”

 

I thought about what my parents would say when they found out about this project and it's lack of educational value, about how they’d talk to my teacher about how outrageous this was, about how they’d insist I be out in a different, harder class. No one ever asked me what _I_ wanted.

 

We could go to the library, although I didn't think they'd take kindly to us cutting up cereal boxes while people were trying to read.

 

“Yours. As long as your parents are okay with it,” I decided. My parents would fuss and worry, and demand I text them constantly, but it was the best alternative.

 

“My mum’ll be fine with it,” Ezekiel said. “I’ll text her though. When do you want to meet?”

 

“Well, the project's due next Tuesday, so how’s tomorrow after school? That gives us the weekend if we need it.”

 

“Works for me.”

 

“Great. We should probably exchange numbers?”

 

“Right,” said Ezekiel, handing me his phone. “Put your number in and I'll text you.” I typed in my contact info and gave it back just as the bell rang.

 

When I arrived at my next class, I saw I had two messages from Ezekiel: his name and an address.

 

**9:06am**

 

 **Me:** We need a cereal box. Want me to get one?

 

 **Ezekiel:** Nah, I have one.

 

***

The bell rang, and I was swept out with the flood, winding my way through the halls until I made it to the front entrance. Ezekiel and I had agreed to meet here, so I scanned the crowd for him. “Hey.”

 

I whirled around to see Ezekiel. “Hi. Ready to go?”

 

“Yeah.” We pushed open the doors and headed to the parking lot. Normally Jake and I drove to school together, but he had practice after school, so I had gotten permission to borrow my dad’s car.

 

“Alright,” I said once we had stowed our backpacks in the back seat and buckled up. “Just tell me where to go.”

 

Ezekiel gave me the directions as we went, when he wasn't fiddling with the stereo. We finally pulled up to a modest house with blue trim.

 

Inside, it was surprisingly neat. The flat surfaces were clear, books were neatly stacked on the shelves, a blanket was folded and drapes over the back of the couch. Ezekiel sat his bag down next to a stool and beckoned me over the other at the island. “My mum’s probably not home yet. I'll get the box though.” He opened the pantry door, rustled around, and reappeared with a bright red Froot Loops box. I raised an eyebrow, and he responded with a shrug. “I'm a fan of fruity fun.”

 

As he dug around in drawers for some scissors, I did some calculations in my head. With those dimensions, and considering we needed one hundred and eighty isosceles triangles, “two inches by three inches.”

 

“What?” He handed me a pair of scissors.

 

“Our triangles. They need to be two inches by three inches.”

 

“Oh, okay. We should probably cut out a couple pattern triangles--” He stared at me. “When did you calculate that?”

 

“Just now.”

 

Ezekiel blinked and shook his head. “Alright. So two triangles should suffice, and we can each cut out 89 more.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Ezekiel, as I found out, was different in his own house. He was still sarcastic, but there was no bite to it.

 

He smiled more. _Yes, that was it._

 

I didn’t think my parents would say yes when Eve, Ezekiel’s mom, invited me to stay for dinner, but apparently they knew her; she was the police chief. And, of course, we had to finish taping together the triangles, and there was nothing more important than school. When I said I could stay, Eve’s smile was so welcoming I could tell where Ezekiel got it from. That wasn’t the last time I went to his house, not by a long shot.

 

That was how it began, but the middle is where most of the action has happened.

 

I asked him to prom (he said yes). We wore pink lilies, and both of our parents took hundreds of pictures of us in ridiculous poses, and that’s the night we first kissed.

 

When I graduated the next year, instead of flowers Ezekiel made me a chain of great stellated dodecahedrons, Frosted Flake blue and Corn Pop yellow and Froot Loop red. I hung them up in my dorm room in the fall.

 

After the emergency procedure to remove my brain tumor, he was waiting at my bedside for me to wake up. When I did, Ezekiel climbed into my hospital bed with me and pulled me close, promising to take me home as soon as the doctors allowed.

 

 _Right, home._ We moved in together after I graduated with my Bachelor’s Degree in physics.

 

After Ezekiel proposed, Eve told me she knew I was the one from the first time Ezekiel brought me home.

 

There’ve been fights too, of course, and rough patches. My parents didn’t like him at first. They’re still not his biggest fan, but I made it clear their opinion didn’t sway how I felt about Ezekiel. He doesn’t like to talk about his past, about his life before Eve adopted him, or how he ended up in the Witness Protection Program, and I’ve learned not to pry. He’ll tell me on his own time, if he wants to. We have plenty of time to share.

***

Some people would say it ends with a wedding, after all Shakespeare’s comedies almost all ended in a wedding, but I disagree. As I adjust my veil in the mirror, I know Ezekiel and my story is just beginning.

  
And to think it started with a project.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback, as always, is much appreciated.


End file.
